<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Tossed Aside by detafo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398533">Tossed Aside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/detafo/pseuds/detafo'>detafo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fic Exchange, Gen, Gift Fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:33:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/detafo/pseuds/detafo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventeen-year-old Louie Tormeny has had a rough go on it. Her dad died when she was a toddler, her mum remarried a bigoted, abusive drunk, and died of cancer a few years later. Now Louie has to get out of her situation and start over.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalemrys/gifts">immortalemrys</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/2655278">Twenty Years</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalemrys/pseuds/immortalemrys">immortalemrys</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a companion fic that goes along with immortalemrys' "Twenty Years", and is best read after chapter 22. Thank you for allowing me to play with your story!! It's fun!<br/>Beta'd by the wonderful sherlockwatson_holmes... Thank you!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get out you little slut!” The stinging words echoed through the young woman’s head as she stuffed a few things into a back pack, tears streaming down her bruised and bleeding face. Up until an hour ago, Louie had been on the phone, discussing a plan for a gathering of LGBTQIA youth at school before the end of term, thinking she’d been alone in the house.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, she’d been caught by her bigoted and dangerously drunken stepfather, who had taken the phone, gently placed it in the cradle, before backhanding Louie so hard that she’d fallen over and had narrowly missed cracking the side of her head on the kitchen island. With Louie on the floor, Richard Jones had taken out his boozed-up temper on her prone form, slapping and kicking her until she was cut and bruised and bleeding on the tile.</p>
<p>She’d managed to get up, wheezing through the pain of a broken rib and had thought to grab a kitchen knife, slashing at him blindly as she hobbled up the stairs to her room and began to pack a bag with clothing, the small amount of cash Richard hadn’t managed to take from her, and her favourite stuffed animal from childhood, Old Rabbit.</p>
<p>Taking up the knife again, she hobbled down the stairs and glared at the man sitting in the stinking recliner in front of the television. She didn’t dare say anything, lest she stoke his temper again, and opened the door.</p>
<p>“Give me the key, whore.” He sneered. “I’m not letting you back in this house.”</p>
<p>“It’s not your house.” She said through gritted teeth. “But keep it.” She tossed the key at him weakly, and he laughed cruelly.</p>
<p>“Your stupid mother left me in charge when she went and died. It’s my house. You can give me your phone, too.”</p>
<p>“No!” Louie turned to bolt out the door, but somehow, Richard was quicker, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her backward. “Stop! Help--!”</p>
<p>“Shut up. No one gives a fuck about you.” He spat, pulling the flip phone from her pocket and hitting it against the bureau so that the screen shattered into a million tinkling shards. “You’re lucky I’m letting you take anything as it is.” Pushing the girl out the door so roughly she tumbled down the stairs, he slammed the door and locked it.</p>
<p>With a mixture of tears and blood tracking down her face, Louie pulled her denim jacket around herself tightly and curled up where she’d landed on the pavement, sobbing silently, painfully before darkness pulled her under.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Hey…” Louie moaned softly as she felt someone touch her shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”</p>
<p>“She’s probably homeless, Liz. Leave her alone.”</p>
<p>“No! She’s hurt, Bradley. We have to help her. Call 999.”</p>
<p>Louie’s swollen black eye cracked open the slightest amount and she blearily looked up at the woman crouched beside her. “Ambulance…” She croaked.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, hon. They’re on their way. Bradley!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, all right… you and your bloody strays.”</p>
<p>“She’s <em>bleeding</em>, you twat.” The one called Liz hissed, before turning back to Louie. “Keep still, sweetie. It’ll be all right.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, contusion to the back of the head, possible oedema, broken rib, several cuts and bruises… Louise? Louise, can you hear me?” Louie’s eyes fluttered at the sound of her name. Slowly, she tried to focus on the figure above her. “How many fingers am I holding up, Louise?”</p>
<p>She mumbled incoherently through the oxygen mask and coughed, wincing at the pain.</p>
<p>“Patient on route to the Royal London. ETA three minutes.” That voice came from the front of the vehicle, most likely, the driver.</p>
<p>“Louise, how many fingers?”</p>
<p>“Four…” She muttered hazily. The EMT nodded and relayed more information over the two-way radio.</p>
<p>“Don’t try and move, Louise. We don’t know what damage you might’ve done to your back.”</p>
<p>“Louie.” She mumbled. “My name is Louie.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>A rhythmic beeping cut through the haze of unconsciousness that had pulled her back under. Her whole body throbbed with pain and she groaned softly as her eyes fluttered.</p>
<p>“Louie? Louie, sweetheart?” The voice was female, trembling slightly. Her hand was squeezed softly by warm fingers as she opened her good eye as best she could. As her gaze focused on the woman at her bedside, she felt her eyes brim with tears.</p>
<p>“Auntie Lee…” She mumbled. “Where am I?”</p>
<p>“You’re in the Royal London, sweetheart.” Alicia Smallwood squeezed her niece’s hand again. “You’ll be all right, but you’ll have to stay for a little while, so you can heal.” She hesitated. “Can you tell me what happened?”</p>
<p>Louie brushed at her tears with tentative fingers. “Richard…” She croaked. “Drunk… beat me up…”</p>
<p>Alicia’s face seemed to turn to stone for a fraction of a second, before she wiped Louie’s tears away as gently as she could. “Oh, sweetheart… I’m so sorry…” She’d known from her brother-in-law’s file that he had a dangerous temper, especially while intoxicated, but since the man hadn’t seemed to have touched alcohol since her sister’s death, she’d thought that her niece was safe. Apparently, she’d been wrong.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Auntie Lee…” Louie mumbled.</p>
<p>“What on earth do you have to be sorry about?” Alicia’s eyebrows were practically disappearing into her hairline.</p>
<p>“I…” Louie’s eyes filled with tears. “I should have told you…”</p>
<p>Alicia’s mouth set in a firm line. “How long has this been going on, Louie?”</p>
<p>“Since mum…”</p>
<p>“Since she died?” Alicia was incensed. Louie winced as she shook her head slowly. “What?”</p>
<p>“Since mum got too sick to notice the bruises.”</p>
<p>“Oh…” Alicia felt sick. Biting her lip, she patted the girl’s hand. “It’s … it’s not your fault, love…” She took a deep breath. “I think I need a moment to process that.” She murmured.</p>
<p>There was a soft knock at the door to the private room, and both women looked up to see a man in a slightly rumpled-looking suit standing there, waiting to be allowed in. “Not interrupting, am I?”</p>
<p>“Detective Inspector Lestrade…” Alicia nodded. “Please, come in… Official business?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Greg nodded. “I was summoned to the scene with the EMTs… I was told she’d be asleep for a while and it was probably better to come back. How’d they get a hold of you?”</p>
<p>“Louie has an I. C. E. patch sewn into the lining of her backpack… my details were on it.” Alicia said softly. She turned to her niece and smiled gently. “And I’m glad of it.”</p>
<p>Greg nodded and moved to the end of the bed. “Louise, right?”</p>
<p>“Louie.” She murmured. “I prefer Louie.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.” Greg smiled. “Louie, then… can you tell me what happened?”</p>
<p>Louie gave her aunt a sidelong look. Alicia patted her hand and nodded. “I’m not angry with you, sweetheart. Tell as much as you can.”</p>
<p>Louie took a deep breath, wincing at the pain of her broken rib. “My stepfather got drunk and beat me up…told me to get the hell out of his house.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I… don’t know why it happened. I keep out of his way; I go to school…” She was grasping at anything she could, terrified that Richard would punish her for outing him like this.</p>
<p>Greg nodded, jotting down information onto his notebook. “Do you have any idea what might set him off?”</p>
<p>Louie slowly shook her head. She didn’t want to talk anymore. Her temples were pounding. Alicia gave Lestrade a Look, and indicated that she wanted to talk to him outside. “Go back to sleep, Louie… you look utterly exhausted.” She stood up.</p>
<p>“Where are you going?” Louie bit her lip.</p>
<p>“Just out into the hall to make a few phone calls about work.” Alicia smiled. “I’m not going anywhere else. I promise.” She turned back to Lestrade. “I don’t think she can be of much help right now, Detective Inspector, she has only just woken up… shall we give her a bit of time to acclimate?”</p>
<p>Greg nodded. “Sure. I’ll come back another time, when you’re feeling a bit better, Louie.” He smiled, before shaking Alicia’s hand and turning toward the door. Alicia walked him out.</p>
<p>Closing the door behind her, she turned to Greg. “I’m sorry the interview was so short. Perhaps I can answer some questions?”</p>
<p>Greg shrugged. “Some details would be good. Who was the bastard that did this?”</p>
<p>“Richard Jones.” Alicia gave a sigh. “Louie’s stepfather.”</p>
<p>“What happened to her mother?”</p>
<p>“Her mother, my sister, Amelia, died about two years ago. Pancreatic cancer. Louie was fifteen.”</p>
<p>“And Louie’s biological father?”</p>
<p>“Matthias Tormeny.” Alicia supplied. “Worked with my late husband. He died due to injuries sustained in the Bishopsgate bombing in 1993. I doubt Louie even remembers him… she was only about two years old.”</p>
<p>“God, poor kid.” Greg winced. “How long were Richard and Amelia married?”</p>
<p>Alicia frowned, thinking. “I think they got married when Louie was 13. It seemed like a whirlwind marriage at the time, but my sister was happy.” She sighed. “I personally never really liked him. I think he only married my sister to gain access to her money, to be honest, but that’s only my opinion.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you gave Louie the I.C.E. patch?”</p>
<p>“I gave her the backpack with the badge already sewn in for her fifteenth birthday.” Alicia said. “I wasn’t aware of any abuse going on, but when my sister was making out her will, she wanted Louie to inherit everything, and wanted her to still be close to blood relations. I think, deep in her heart, she knew that Richard and Louie would never be close, and wanted her daughter to have a safety net.”</p>
<p>Greg nodded, closing his notebook. “I’ll come by again tomorrow, give Louie a chance to rest up, see if we can put these puzzle pieces together.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Detective Inspector.” Alicia smiled. “Your help is greatly appreciated.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Poor kid. Not even out of her teens and she’s seen more hardship than anyone I know.</em> Greg mused as he got out of the car, heading to the front door of the house. Opening the door, he hung up his jacket and leaned heavily against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.</p>
<p>“Dad?” He looked up, seeing Jas peeking around the kitchen door at him. “Everything okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, just a rough afternoon.” He smiled. “When did you get home, kid?”</p>
<p>“A couple of hours ago.” Jas grinned.  “Mum’s pissed off, probably on the verge of throwing me out of the house, now that she knows I’m bi.”</p>
<p>Greg’s tired smile faltered. “Well, you always have a home here.”</p>
<p>“You okay?” Jas cocked her head to the side, before ducking to the fridge to get a couple of beers. She handed one to him and gave a small smile. “Wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>“Not really allowed to talk about ongoing cases.” He mused.</p>
<p>“As if that’s ever stopped you before.” Jas snorted. “You share cases with Sherlock Holmes all the time.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, the ones I can’t figure out.” Greg gave a half smile. “Just flinching at what you said. It’s a similar situation.”</p>
<p>“But… that’s not your division.”</p>
<p>“Will be. I was specifically requested. The suspect put a kid in hospital.”</p>
<p>Jas stopped, bottle of beer midway to her lips. “<em>What</em>?”</p>
<p>Greg shrugged. “From what I can gather, he’s been conditioning her for the last two years or so, she knows he’s a bad guy, but she’s unwilling to talk to anyone. Even her family.”</p>
<p>“Poor kid.” Jas frowned. “You said it was a similar situation, though?”</p>
<p>“Mmm…” Greg took a pull of his beer. “Apparently he’s a bigoted asshat and hates all the LGBTQIA stuff.”</p>
<p>“Charming.”</p>
<p>“And the kid he put in hospital was his step daughter.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? Sounds like he won’t be in the running for father of the year any time soon.” Jas wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I won’t repeat any of this, dad… you know that… but if she needs help--”</p>
<p>“If she <em>accepts</em> help.”</p>
<p>“--Well, yeah. If she<em> accepts</em> help, I’m willing to put my hand up.”</p>
<p>“You’re a good kid, Jas.” Greg smiled. “Now, what’s for dinner? Or should we reheat some of the leftovers Steph left?”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“How is my niece, Doctor?” Alicia gazed at the sleeping form on the bed.</p>
<p>“Physically, she’s doing well.” The doctor said, softly, not wanting to wake the patient. “Her rib will take time to heal, and she’ll probably need to have some sort of physical therapy after her bruises disappear. Mentally… well, that depends on her.”</p>
<p>“The police have already been informed of her stepfather.” Alicia sighed. “I can’t help but admonish myself for not seeing the signs sooner.”</p>
<p>“You can’t think like that, Lady Smallwood. You’re here, now, when Louie most definitely needs you.” The doctor put a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should go home, get some sleep. We’ll keep an eye on Louie.”</p>
<p>Alicia nodded resignedly and gathered her handbag. “Notify me if anything changes. Otherwise, I’ll be back in the morning.”</p>
<p>She headed out, pulling her phone from her purse. Scrolling through the few contacts, she selected the correct contact, and waited for him to pick up the phone.</p>
<p>“Mycroft.” She murmured. “I won’t be into the office for a few days.”</p>
<p>“Is everything alright, Lady Smallwood?”</p>
<p>“A family emergency. I’ll need to take some time.”</p>
<p>“Of course. I’ll have Anthea file the necessary documents with Sir Edwin.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear friend.” She said, softly.</p>
<p>“Do you require company?” Mycroft asked, a gentle hint to his voice.</p>
<p>“Oh, no… please, Mycroft. Don’t forgo your evening just to help me.” She said with a watery laugh. “No, thank you. We’ll be fine. I specifically requested Detective Inspector Lestrade as the officer in charge. He’ll be coming back tomorrow for a proper interview.”</p>
<p>“If you’re sure.” Mycroft agreed. “Take care, Alicia.”</p>
<p>“Thank you. I’ll update you on circumstances soon… but right now, I need to be with my family.”</p>
<p>“I understand.” Mycroft gave a sigh. “Good night.”</p>
<p>“Good night.” She hung up the phone and walked towards the exit, sliding into the back seat of the town car that waited there. “Home, please, Joseph.”</p>
<p>“Ma’am.” The car pulled out of the parking garage, and onto the street.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Despite only having slept for a few hours, she was back at Louie’s bedside by seven the next morning. The girl had had a disruptive night’s sleep, and had it not been for the black bruise ringing her eye, the bags would have been quite prominent.</p>
<p>Picking at the food on her breakfast tray, she sighed. “Is that detective coming again today?”</p>
<p>Alicia smiled and squeezed her hand. “Is that all right?”</p>
<p>Louie shrugged feebly. “I guess. Not much I can tell him, though. I don’t remember much.”</p>
<p>“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Would you rather tell me?”</p>
<p>Louie shook her head. “If I tell anyone, he’s gonna be so mad at me.”</p>
<p>“Louie. Sweetheart. Even if he is mad at you, there’s nothing he can do. He kicked you out of the house and left you to bleed in the street. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Only you can make sure he does his time in prison.”</p>
<p>Louie picked at the crust of her toast. “I guess.”</p>
<p>There was a light tap at the door, and Lestrade smiled as he came in. “Sorry. Am I too early? Figured we’d get the hard part over with, and you can concentrate on getting better.”</p>
<p>Louie shared a look with her aunt, took a deep breath, nodded, and pushed her bed table away. “You promise he’s not going to come after me?”</p>
<p>Lestrade made a cross over his heart. “I promise I’m gonna do my damnedest to get this creep behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”</p>
<p>Louie pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay.” She heaved a sigh, then winced. “What do you want to know?”</p>
<p>Slowly, they went through the questions prepared by Lestrade. Louie took her time in answering, keeping her gaze locked on her knees. Had she ever had a positive relationship with her stepfather? Not really. She’d been twelve when her mother had brought him home, and Louie had taken an instant dislike to him, a gut feeling that proved right, but she hadn’t wanted to ruin her mother’s happiness, had spent a lot of time at her Auntie Lee’s house. Did her mother know about the strained relationship? Probably, but Louie had been mistrustful of a lot of things as a young teenager. When did he start to get physical? One day when Amelia had been in Chemotherapy and Richard had backhanded Louie for talking back. She told Amelia that she’d been hit in the face with a football at school.</p>
<p>The questioning went on for over an hour. By the time they were done, Louie was shaking slightly, squeezing her aunt’s hand tightly. Lestrade pocketed his notebook and nodded. “Thanks, Louie. You’ve been a big help.”</p>
<p>She merely nodded, still staring at her knees.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Detective Inspector.” Alicia said with a nod. “If you need anything else…” She proffered a business card. Lestrade took it with a nod.</p>
<p>“No problem.” He smiled. “Thanks for all your help, Louie. Feel better soon, yeah? If I need anything more, I’ll get in touch.”</p>
<p>Louie stiffened and nodded minutely. “Okay.” She whispered. Lestrade nodded, and left. “Richard always said he had friends at the Met…” She mumbled.</p>
<p>“Oh, sweetheart.” Alicia squeezed her hand. “I trust the Detective Inspector implicitly. He’s a good man. He doesn’t have time for garbage like Richard.”</p>
<p>Louie gave her a curious look. “How do you know him?”</p>
<p>Alicia smiled. “I had a meeting with him not that long ago. He’s seeing one of the people I work with.”</p>
<p>“Oh…” Louie bit her lip. “Like… dating?”</p>
<p>“Very much like it.” Alicia chuckled. “Now… how are you feeling about going for a walk? You must be going bonkers, looking at the same four walls for so long.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“What’s got you all worked up about this guy?” Donovan asked, watching her boss with a raised brow. “Usually with this kind of stuff, you’re saying ‘not my division’, or something else like that… Are we just normal coppers now, not CID?”</p>
<p>“Why are you asking me stupid questions? This guy beat the crap out of a teenager, has been doing it for years, and you say he shouldn’t be a case for criminal investigation?”</p>
<p>“No…” Sally blanched. “I’m not saying that… but you seem to be taking this case personally. I mean… more personally than usual.”</p>
<p>“Piss off, Sally.”</p>
<p>“But…”</p>
<p>“Out.”</p>
<p>“Touchy bastard.” Sally rolled her eyes and stalked out of the office, flouncing back to her desk in a show of frustration, which Greg ignored.</p>
<p>Taking out his phone, he thought for a moment.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dinner at my place tonight? -Greg</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That would be lovely. Shall I bring something? MH</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Just yourself. You like Greek food? -Greg</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m a fan of most Mediterranean foods. 7PM? MH</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Perfect. See you then. -Greg. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louie lay on her left side, trying not to aggravate her broken rib, as she looked at the bland motel-style painting on the wall. Although she loved her aunt, and appreciated her taking her in after the whole debacle of her stepfather kicking her out, the room still felt like a motel that Louie was only renting for the week. She sighed softly. The bed was comfortable, the linens were clean, what more could she ask for, without being demanding?</p>
<p>She’d been ‘home’ for a few days, after her stay in hospital. She felt safer here than at the Royal London, with security and access checks to make sure there were no unsavoury people trying to sneak up on her. While her grades were satisfactory to get into college, she still worried about her eligibility. Richard had tried to block her at every turn from being successful. She sighed, trying not to think about anything, like the therapist had said. She could take some time to just… relax into her new life. No one would mind, no one that mattered, anyway.</p>
<p>She looked toward the open bedroom door as a knock sounded on the frame. She smiled wanly at her aunt as the older woman gave her a benign smile.</p>
<p>“I was thinking,” Alicia mused. “This room is far too much like a rental for my taste, and that runs a sight more conservative than your tastes ever would.” Louie looked at her aunt, quizzically. “How would you feel about a shopping trip? You and me, Harrods, you can get whatever you like.”</p>
<p>Louie raised her brows, questioningly. “I’ve… I’ve never been to Harrods.” She said, softly. “I get all my things from the markets, or the thrift shop.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you’ve been to Harrods. Your mother and I would take you there for a treat on your birthday, when you were younger. “You didn’t leave a single toy unplayed with.” Alicia smiled. “Please, Louie. This is my way of saying I want you here. I want you to decorate how you want, no matter what I think.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have much money.” Louie mumbled.</p>
<p>“And it’s my treat, darling. I don’t have any children and I always loved spoiling you. You’re such an independent young woman now… I want to do something nice.”</p>
<p>“You’ve taken me in!”</p>
<p>“And I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Alicia sat next to her niece on the bed. “You deserve so much more than what Richard refuses to provide. Please?”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>It took a little more coaxing, but an hour later, the pair were walking through the departments of Harrods, looking at quilt and sheet sets. Louie was mostly quiet. She wasn’t used to being spoiled like this. Not since she was a child.</p>
<p>“Well, hello, Lady Smallwood!” Louie looked up to see the policeman who had interviewed her in the hospital, standing near them. With him was a tall, brunette woman with an open smile.</p>
<p>“Detective Inspector Lestrade!” Alicia smiled. “How nice to see you here.”</p>
<p>“Please… I’m off duty, call me Greg.” The man grinned. “This is my daughter, Jasmine.”</p>
<p>“Greg… how lovely.” Alicia shook the man’s hand before turning to Jasmine. “A pleasure to meet you, Jasmine.”</p>
<p>“Please, call me Jas… everyone does.” The woman said with a grin.</p>
<p>“Jas it is, then… this is my niece, Louie.”</p>
<p>“Hi.” Louie said, quietly, shuffling her feet, nervously. She glanced up at the Lestrades, gave a small smile, and looked at her shoes again, but not before spying a collage of Pride patches sewn onto Jas’s jacket. She bit her lip.</p>
<p>Jas followed her gaze. “You like? I’m a terrible seamstress, but I think I did okay.” She laughed. “I get a lot of guff for them with the uneducated idiots, but they also let people like me know that I’m safe to talk to.”</p>
<p>“People like you?” Louie frowned.</p>
<p>“Queer.” Jas smiled.</p>
<p>Alicia and Greg exchanged a glance. “I think I could use a strong cup of tea,” Alicia mused. “What about you, Greg?”</p>
<p>“I could go a brew.” Greg nodded. “How’s about you girls talk about… whatever it is girls talk about?” He grinned and ducked a playful swipe from his daughter. “We’ll be over in the café.”</p>
<p>The older pair set off to satiate their need for caffeine, talking quietly. Louie feeling lost, trembled slightly. Jas noticed and her eyes were kind.</p>
<p>“Hey,” She said, gently. Louie looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Louie, it’s okay. Breathe, for me… in… out… good girl.”</p>
<p>Louie closed her eyes and tried to follow Jas’s breathing patterns, hitching slightly as her panic threatened to spill. “S-sorry.” She mumbled. “I’m not great with… new situations.” She swallowed hard.</p>
<p>“It’s okay.” Jas smiled. “Just take your time.”</p>
<p>After a moment of wrestling with her dread, Louie let out a breath and opened her eyes again, noticing Jas’s hand on her arm. Her eyes fixating on all the different coloured patches, she eyed them curiously. “Okay… um… so I know that’s the Pride flag, and that one is Bisexual, but… I’m not sure about the others?”</p>
<p>Jas smiled. “Okay, point out which ones you want to know about. I can tell you.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Louie began to relax. Jas was easy to talk to, was patient and kind. She found herself telling the older woman about her school group, how they’d sent a lovely bunch of rainbow coloured flowers as a get well present, after finding out about her hospitalisation. Jas listened with interest, nodding at appropriate moments and offering a comment or two.</p>
<p>As they talked, they walked around the Manchester department, looking at sheet sets and quilts, plus decorative things that Louie thought she might like looking at more than the bland painting already on the wall. Alicia had admitted that she wasn’t a fan of that particular painting, that her husband had bought it years ago, and Alicia had moved it to the guest room sometime after he’d died.</p>
<p>After picking out a pretty blue and green duvet set, and two sets of sheets matching the accented colours, they ventured back towards the café, chatting about everything from Connie Prince’s television show, to the movies that were coming out in the summer.</p>
<p>Alicia looked up from her coffee cake as they came nearer and smiled. “Find anything?”</p>
<p>“Yes, thank you, Auntie Lee.” Louie smiled, feeling a lot calmer, thanks to Jas.</p>
<p>“Excuse me, Lady Smallwood, but would it be all right if I took Louie up to the mobile accessories? She mentioned she didn’t have a phone, and I thought maybe we could keep in contact.”</p>
<p>“Well, that is thoughtful of you Jas.” Alicia smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Put it on my account.”</p>
<p>“Thank you!” Louie actually sounded excited. She hugged her aunt and the woman chuckled. As the two young women left, Greg raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Seventeen-year-old without a phone?”</p>
<p>“Richard.” Alicia gave a sigh. “From what I can gather, he broke Louie’s phone before he threw her out. Probably in a last-ditch attempt to forbid her from contacting me.”</p>
<p>“Well, if it eases your mind some, he’s been taken into custody. None of my guys appreciate a child abuser, so he’s not got any friends where he’ll be going.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Alicia nodded. “Thank you, Greg.”</p>
<p>Greg shrugged. “Hey, it’s my job.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“This one looks stylish.” Jas said, pointing at a mobile handset.</p>
<p>“It’s a sight more stylish than my old phone…” Louie said with a shake of her head. “It was an old hot pink flip phone that a friend gave me… Motorola something?”</p>
<p>“Oh! The RAZR… yeah, that was a good phone.” Jas laughed. “I know next to nothing about technology, really. Vaughn tries to teach me, bless him, but nothing seems to stick.”</p>
<p>“Who’s Vaughn?” Louie asked, feeling her heart sink, though she couldn’t understand why.</p>
<p>“A guy I go out with sometimes.” Jas smiled. “We’re better friends than lovers, I think. We’ve only been dating a little while, but he’s pretty chill about the fact that I was dating Melissa for a long time.”</p>
<p>Louie bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ve never really dated. Didn’t want to bring anyone home.” She shuddered. Jas nodded.</p>
<p>“Believe it or not, I had to hide my dating Melissa from my mum. She thought we just best friends…”</p>
<p>“Would she not have liked it?”</p>
<p>“Oh, she’s a raging homophobe.” Jas shrugged. “She didn’t actually find out until Dad told her at their divorce mediation a few weeks ago.” She smirked.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry your parents are divorced.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be. I’m certainly not. Mum and I haven’t gotten along since I was about twelve, maybe younger. When I found out the first time she cheated on Dad.” Jas looked pensive. “Or at least, the first time I know about. There could be so many others before that.”</p>
<p>Louie blinked. Jas was so candid about her dislike for her mother and her behaviour. It was strange to see someone so open about their relationships. She bit her lip. “My dad died when I was two or three… and mum died two years ago… I’ve been keeping out of my stepfather’s way since then…” She gestured to her cuts and bruises. Jas gave a kind look and put her arm gently around the girl’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“Well, he’ll be walking like John Wayne soon enough. Sounds to me like he’d be prime currency in prison.” She winked. “Don’t fret, Louie. You’re always welcome to hang out with me and my crew. Come on. Let’s get this phone and I’ll program my numbers in.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>